


A spectrum of emotions

by EnlacingLines



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Confessions, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Rivals to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26481358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: Except now he can’t focus because he’s thinking. Of the fact that he was somehow in the lead, without question when Akechi managed to score so highly in the last round, that it was both frustrating yet addicting to watch and well....kinda hot. Hence the whole make out on the backstairs thing.Akira cannot control his reactions to winning or losing, and most likely doesn't want to.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 9
Kudos: 194





	A spectrum of emotions

**Author's Note:**

> I have fallen very hard, and very quickly for these two. Late on the uptake as ever. 
> 
> Thank you to MxTicketyBoo for betaing (and listening to me yell so much that they bought the game, you are the best)
> 
> Enjoy!

There is something about kissing the person who’s just completely destroyed you. Something about kissing them while they smile. The goal: kiss said smile right off their face, pin it down and chase it, remove all trace but you can’t, it’s almost too hard as they grin and kiss and bite…

And then it’s done, and Akira is stumbling out of the darts hall, hair still a mess, but it’s always a mess, while Akechi bids him a formal adieu (literally says adieu, and Akira makes a face to his back), as if he’s not dabbing at edge of his mouth where Akira tugged slightly too hard in that last kiss. 

Which he utterly deserved, Akira thinks as he grins to himself on the way to the station. It’s dark out now, they’d met fairly late, but he has an assignment due at the end of the week, so there’s no point in sleeping. His blood is awash with the buzz of the last couple of hours. Honestly, he shouldn’t really be this hyped up from a simple game.

But then again, it’s not ever really a game when it’s with Akechi. 

The apartment is dark when he returns, Ryuji not home yet, which is fine, for Akira studies best without him when he actually has to get something done. He makes coffee, an old habit from high school which he probably should quit before his heart gives away, but he’s not known for listening to the common sense part of his brain. 

He gets the essay open and two sips into the coffee before his phone buzzes. Akechi asking if he’s home. Akira rolls his eyes, as if a two stop train journey is going to cause havoc, but responds with the affirmative. 

Except now he can’t focus because he’s thinking. Of the fact that he was somehow in the lead, without question when Akechi managed to score so highly in the last round, that it was both frustrating yet addicting to watch and well....kinda hot. Hence the whole make out on the backstairs thing. 

It’s like a pocket of time that exists outside of the normal running of reality, just these moments where they somehow find themselves both alone and competing of all things, which just fires something up in Akira that he’s not sure existed until now. 

He knows Akechi calls them rivals. He’s not really sure why or how it progressed to this stage, it just did, almost without his input. But he’d be lying if he says he wasn’t enjoying it. 

The door suddenly bangs open, and only three years of knowing Ryuji keeps him from jumping. He realises with slight surprise that over thirty minutes has gone by since he replied to Akechi’s message, and he’s done absolutely nothing but stare into space and think about kissing. 

“Hey man, I...are you studying? Urgg, okay fine I’ll join you,” he says, dropping his bag on the floor with another thump, and this is precisely why their neighbours constantly post snippy little notes through the door. 

“I’ll make new coffee,” Akira mutters, seeing as his cup remains practically untouched, and two years working in a coffee shop means he cannot stand the idea of reheating. He forces himself to focus back on actually doing his essay, hopefully without being utterly distracted by his best friend. 

It works enough to get him through to the next time. 

* * *

Akira can’t actually pinpoint exactly how Akechi fits into their group, or even if he does fit. Much like the rivals label, he’s not really sure how Akechi turned up in his life, it just sort of happened, and here they are. 

He knows Akechi and Makoto share classes as they bicker about it constantly, and he thinks Haru is trying to lure him into her gardening club, but Akira can’t say he’s paid enough attention to that line of thought to know where that stands. Ryuji is aggravated by him, and he has no idea how Yusuke feels about the matter. 

But it’s a weekend, and they’re all at the arcade, and of course this leads to-

“Care for a rematch?” Akechi asks, holding a plastic silver gun out towards him, despite the fact this ‘rematch’ must have been at least a month old, it’s been so long since Akira last visited the arcade. 

He nods though, compelled almost to take the second weapon as Akechi smiles in that particular way he does; with less joy and more cunning, which is part of the reason Akira can’t back down, and can’t control what inevitably will happen after. 

He feels his face start to heat, hopes his glasses and focus on the intro screen hide it, but he hears a cough and looks up just in time to see Ann’s eyes narrowing at him while Haru’s back is turned, before she whisked back up in conversation. 

Which of course, could mean something. For if there’s one person in their group who does understand Akechi, it’s Ann. They fit as friends, best friends most likely, so while he’s a little on the outside of the group as a whole, he and Ann are thick as thieves. And she’s already giving Akira some sort of  _ look _ which makes him think there’ll be a conversation later. 

But for now, the game is starting and that takes all his attention. 

Akira’s played this many times, so often that he can predict the enemies, the too-hard plastic trigger barely slipping in his fingers. The levels pass, swift and simply, and Akira stays focused, heat rising as the adrenaline pounds, attention caught. 

Except he can’t stick at it forever, and without permission his eyes slide to the centre, taking in the score. 

Akechi is three points ahead. 

Just three damn points, but it’s motivation enough to stop him blinking for the next few seconds, hand moving across the screen as the time clicks down, eyes stinging. He doesn’t look again, the passing of time only marked by the ache in his arm and finger as he holds the gun far too tight, powering through. 

Akira doesn’t think he would have realised the time ending unless the screen flashed, his gun is still cocked and ready. 

And he’s won. By three damn points. 

“Whew, that was extremely close, and high score for me, but this time you’ve come out on top,” Akechi says with a laugh, but he flicks his hair from his eyes, and worries at the side of his lip which still holds a tiny mark where Akira bit it a few days ago, and Akira wants instantly, to wipe that look clean off this planet.

“Well you’re done, time for food!” Ann actually yells in his ear, and he jumps before being dragged sideways. 

“Err, Ann, Mako-chan and I just started-” Haru says from the racing game, but she laughs, dismissing her with a wave. 

“We’ll meet you there, I’m too hungry and Akira owes me for last time,” Ann says, gripping onto his arm tighter still and keeping up the pace. He doesn’t have a chance to say anything further, just managing to pick up his bag before Ann pulls him out of the arcade. 

“Really, can you not control yourself for five minutes,” she mutters and all of the pent up energy drains in an instant. 

He doesn’t say anything further as Ann starts picking out what cafe she wants to eat at. Before long they’re seated in a booth of predictably, a crepe place, Ann quickly sending a message to the group before she fixes him with a flat stare. 

“Are you going to do something about that or just keep making out in dark corners?” she says, blunt as ever, arching an eyebrow as Akira feels the blood drain from his face. 

Suspicions now confirmed, there’s little he can do, seeing as Ann is not someone to be deterred. So he shrugs, flicking the plastic menu between his hands. 

“Not sure what you think I should do,” he says slowly, and Ann tips her head to the side. 

“Well, you clearly like each other...don’t you?” she says, suddenly hesitant from the way his face obviously morphs into some expression he doesn’t understand. 

Does he like Akechi? He finds it more difficult than it should be considering he cannot fathom an answer. He doesn’t actually have the language for what it is, what fuels these interactions that are clearly spiralling out of control. It doesn’t feel simple, although it is clearly simple in what occurs: challenge, acceptance, escalation. 

But he can’t say he’s considered the deeper meaning behind that, or that it is instantaneously available when searched for. 

Ann groans, and he looks back at her, as she drops her forehead into her palms. 

“Whhhy are you both like this, it’s infuriating. Okay, hold that thought, we are not finished with this,” she mutters as the doorbell of the cafe jangles and the others join. 

It’s weirdly uncomfortable for Akira after that. The weight of Ann’s words seems to cling to the air, and he finds himself counting the amount of times he absently stares at Akechi (twelve), the times he loses track of conversation because Akechi licking a spoon does unnamed things to his insides (three) and the amount of times he’s pretty certain Akechi is looking at him when he’s not looking (nine). 

All in all, he and Ryuji leave slightly jittery from eating nothing but sugar, and his head filled with far too many conflicting thoughts for a Saturday. 

* * *

It all lasts precisely twenty-four hours, until Akechi turns up at LeBlanc during his shift. It’s the usual Sunday crowd, which is the usual LeBlanc crowd, seeing as the customers have barely changed since Akira lived here in high school. 

“Didn’t see enough of me yesterday?” he says as Akechi sits down, and then instantly he’s wondering why that comes out rather than a normal greeting. His mind starts categorising the other greetings he’s given Akechi, including that one time he replied with ‘honey I’m home,’ when he realises Akechi is speaking. 

“This is on my route home, and where else will I get decent coffee?” he says, and Akira cannot do anything but nod before he’s making exactly what he knows Akechi drinks. 

Sojiro has never in all the time Akira’s worked and lived in LeBlanc, turned the TV off, so it’s natural attention drifts there. However, this has numerous times caused an outburst of debate on it’s content, which has caused him to bite his lip from commenting on some customers' political leanings. 

Today, however it’s just the two of them when a news report about a corruption case is aired, and of course Akechi voices his thoughts on precisely how those caught up in it should be dealt with, to which Akira ends up arguing a slightly different point and it’s really not long at all before Akira’s closed early and they’re making out in a slightly grim backstreet. 

He presses Akechi against the wall because there’s something enticing as to how his breath hitches when he’s crowded, the way he kisses back ferociously, almost like battle, not giving in but clearly enjoying it as Akira presses closer. He does, however, cradle the back of Akechi’s head, as there’s a lot to be gained from messing up his jacket but not so much in actually bashing his head against brick. 

It’s that thought though, which ruins it. As while he’s pushing at him, meeting each scramble at his back and tugging kiss, the feel of Akechi’s hair falling like droplets through his hands is...actually nice. And it’s even nicer when at some point he starts idly massaging his fingers against Akechi’s skull and in return he sighs, melting somewhat and Akira likes that. Really likes that actually, having Akechi start to fall forward into him. 

And that’s different. The kiss changes, becoming languid and tormenting in a slow build that’s harmoniously deep, hands holding and anchoring rather than scrabbling and gripping. It’s slow, and Akira starts to add smaller touches to his lips as the kiss becomes several, heads tilting against one another until Akira can no longer breathe. 

As he stops, pulls back, Akechi’s eyes are still shut. He stays still as his eyes open, dazed and tired. When did he get so tired, Akira suddenly thinks, and he lifts a hand to brush hair from Akechi’s eyes, who smiles softly at the action. 

It’s suddenly extremely awkward. 

In a flash they both feel it, letting go of each other instantly, and Akira backs away as Akechi coughs and straightens his coat. 

“Well then I’m uh...late by now, I’m sure. I’ll see you,” he says, and Akira watches him go, thinking it’s a marvel he’s got enough composure not to run away at this strange energy that’s still suffocating everything. 

“This is Ann’s fault,” he mutters to the wall. 

* * *

“It’s not my fault, you’re the one who can’t work out your own emotions. Both of you, actually,” Ann says, stabbing at her lunch with a fork while Akira sits back, arms folded. 

“Both of us?” he asks, and she rolls her eyes taking another bite. 

“Yes, both of you, I’ve told Goro a thousand times to actually talk to you but...well, he’s Goro so that’s not going to work. Also ew, the alley behind LeBlanc?” she says wrinkling her nose, so he throws his straw wrapper at her instead. 

She mock gasps and he grins, but she shakes her head and steals one of his fries in retaliation, dipping it into her milkshake just to see him shudder. 

“So, are you ready to actually admit you like him? Maybe even talk to him so you don’t have to have super awkward post-kiss eye contact?” she says, clearly trying not to laugh. 

“I don’t even think I like him,” Akira points out, and that makes her pause, chewing for a few moments as she thinks. 

“Okay, well it always looks different, right? And the people I’ve seen you date before, you weren’t as focused with them. You look at him differently, and he looks at you like that too,” she says, giving him a look that clearly says she thinks he’s adorable, and that makes him bristle. 

“I’m not sure it’s like,” he counters, partly as he can feel his neck heating up and partly just to be contrary, but Ann just rolls her eyes. 

“So holding his head gently so it doesn’t get dirty brick dust in it means you’re hate kissing?” she says, and Akira does actually flush then, and finds another errant piece of paper to flick at her. 

He tries to categorise it as they head back to campus. He does care, he supposes, he wouldn’t do any of this without care, but so much of the drive for this one is challenge and the need to draw out that undercurrent that seems to scratch and draw them closer in the same breath.

It’s capable of mellowing though. And Akira can’t lie, he wants that other side of Akechi, the one that likes his hair being played with, just as much as the one who is intent on leaving marks. It’s clearly intense whatever this is, but it has room to grow in multiple directions. 

Scary, on some level. But mostly, exciting. Where’s the thrill without the same danger, after all? 

Ann suddenly grips his arm, stopping still and Akira looks up to see Makoto and Akechi standing outside the law building, clearly debating something intently. Ann shakes him a little, smile growing. 

“Say something, it’s a perfect chance,” she hisses. 

“Uh…” he says intelligently as a sudden tide of nerves at the prospect of coming up with a plan to do something when he’s literally just organised in his brain that there might be a thing to do something about. 

“Makoto! Hey, can I ask you a question about my class real quick!” Ann suddenly yells, capturing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. As ever, she drags Akira along by his arm while she barrels forward to a very confused Makoto. 

“Isn’t your class very soon?” she asks as the two approach, Akira deliberately not looking at Akechi. 

“Yup, but it will make all the difference!” Ann says, and ushers Makoto off towards their class, leaving Akira standing next to Akechi. 

“I do worry she’ll fail at times,” Akechi says, and he’s far closer than Akira expects. The hair on the back of Akira’s neck stands on end, which doesn’t upset him as much as it should. 

He turns slowly, shrugging as their eyes meet. “She hasn’t quite yet, although I used to tell her answers in class,” he says, and Akechi laughs. 

“Yes, that I can see,” he says, fondly. 

The quiet that falls feels strange, like the moment before a video game challenge, before a debate sparks, before a kiss. Akira watches as Akechi inhales once, a sharp spike of determination flickering through his eyes. 

“There is a singer I particularly like at the jazz club tonight. If you don’t have a prior engagement, I’d like to invite you,” he says, startling Akira and immediately upping the ante. 

“You’re inviting me to the jazz club tonight?” he repeats, a little for his own shock and a little just to get Akechi to say it again. 

“I am, if you’re free,” he says, but Akira sees his hand shake by his side. 

It’s unfair in some ways, that Akechi made the first move. But it doesn’t mean Akira can’t counter. 

“Sure. I’ll see you outside,” Akira says, and then quickly ducks in and kisses Akechi once on the lips, fleeting but clear, then steps past with a smile, heading towards his class. 

There’s a muffled shriek and a shush from behind, with the unmistakable sound of pounding footsteps as Ann moves to catch up with him, but he doesn’t mind at all. 

His mind is alight with what feels like a true victory. And Akira can’t wait to see how the tables continue to turn. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have more Shuake coming very soon...and thanks for reading! 
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/)


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